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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320594">A Piece of All the Action</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/3HobbitsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/HungeringForHunkles'>HungeringForHunkles (3HobbitsInATrenchcoat)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Multi, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Sloppy Seconds, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:53:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/3HobbitsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/HungeringForHunkles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford takes you on a picnic in the woods. After he gets his dessert, you head back to the shack where Stan, your other boyfriend, gets a turn of his own.</p><p>THIS IS NOT STANC*ST. DO NOT INTERPRET AS SUCH.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ford Pines/Reader, Stan Pines/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Piece of All the Action</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First off... MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MY FELLOW HUNKLEFUCKERS. YA'LL KNOW WHO YOU ARE :3</p><p>This started life being referred to as the "Feral Forest Ford Fucking Fic" and... that's pretty much what it is. Along with Stan getting sloppy seconds. For the sake of the contents... please assume that all characters have clean bills of health and are on birth control. Safety first after all!</p><p>If you don't want to read about Stan fucking immediately after his brother because that's squicky to you, I put a line break when his segment starts and ends.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Ford Pines had told you that he was taking you on a date, you had honestly expected a nice dinner or perhaps a night in with some DD&amp;MD and a bottle of wine. You hadn’t expected to be traipsing through the woods surrounding the Shack in the golden light of a pleasant summer afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have told me we were going on a hike, I would have put on better clothes.” Your sundress and sandals are cute, but not suited for the great outdoors. You yelp as your hem catches on yet another branch and you yank it away with a frustrated growl. Ahead of you Ford is wearing his usual trench-coat and turtleneck getup. It looks good on him but you really aren’t sure how the man stands the heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns to look at you and some odd expression flickers across his face, too quick to identify. “We aren’t going far, dear. You’re dressed… adequately for the afternoon.” The pause in his voice is not reassuring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Ford might think your sundress is fine, but he’s not the one that will have to deal with thigh chafe if you walk too far without bike shorts under your skirt. This is a date, so of course you dressed cute and with no small amount of hope that </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>would come of it. That said, you aren’t upset that Ford brought you out to the woods. Anything that interests him is of interest to you and brings you both joy. You just wish you’d had a little warning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mushroom foraging or gnome census-taking required slightly different clothing than “possibly playing footsie in the diner” after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It turns out you are doing neither of those things, however. You turn a corner on the narrow deer path and the woods open up into a small grassy clearing. A gently babbling brook runs along the far edge and in the center, taking up nearly the whole space, there’s a fallen log that forms a perfect bench and a picnic blanket with lunch laid out for two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did say we weren’t going far,” says Ford. He sounds smug and when you circle around to face him he has a pleased squint to his eyes. “Do you like your surprise, my dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do, I love a good picnic.” You wander over to investigate and find a couple chicken salad sandwiches with celery sticks on the side. For dessert there appears to be some sort of chocolate dish… you squint at it and, yep, that’s the same one Stan tried to hide from you in the kitchen yesterday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford laughs as he sees that fact register. “Stanley likes to spoil you just as much as I do, love. Just because he doesn’t want to be out here in the woods where ‘anything can bite him in the ass’ doesn’t mean he won’t contribute to the cause.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what cause is that?” you ask, dropping down to settle cross-legged on the blanket. Ford settles in beside you, his knee brushing against yours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, spoiling you.” Ford picks up a sandwich and starts unwrapping the protective waxed paper. You reach for your own, but stop as Ford breaks off a bite of sandwich and holds it out to you. “You’re one of the best things to ever happen to us, so a small celebration is in order.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmhmm,” you lean forward and eat the bite of sandwich right out of Ford’s hand, making sure to brush your lips against his fingers. The odd expression from before flickers over his face again and you plaster on your most innocent look. “And what happens when the gnomes catch wind of our date and make off with Stan’s famous mousse cake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford breaks off another bite of sandwich but this time he lifts it to his own mouth despite your pout. “They won’t,” he says after a moment of quiet chewing. “Mothman still owes me quite a bit of money, so I told him he could pay off a significant portion of his debt by ensuring this glade is gnome-free for the next several hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Several hours, hmm.” You say, reaching for your own sandwich again. This time Ford doesn’t stop you. “And just what might we be doing for several hours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford’s eyes flash and you feel a shiver run down your spine, but all he says is “Eat your lunch, dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few minutes are spent quietly eating the delicious picnic clearly prepared by Stan. Ford means well, but the man could burn water if left to his own devices. Stan, on the other hand, makes a mean chicken salad sandwich. You’re a little disappointed that the man himself couldn’t join in, but he avoids the deeper parts of the woods if he can help it. He’s also been trying to encourage you to spend a little more one-on-one time with Ford.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re pretty sure Stan gets off on the mere thought that somewhere you might be in the throes of pleasure. Which, you aren’t right now, but you could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you’re finally full and the last of the chocolate mousse has been licked from your fingers (slowly, and directed entirely at an increasingly pink-eared Ford), you flop backwards onto the blanket and stare up at the deep blue of the sky just barely visible beyond the treetops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fall soon,” you say into the quiet air. “We better enjoy the summer beauty while it lasts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, believe me, I am,” says Ford. You turn your head to look at him where he lounges beside you, propped up on one elbow. He’s definitely not looking at the sky, instead his eyes trace lazily down the curves of your body barely concealed by your sundress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reach out and swat at him playfully. “Stop that, you old sap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls just out of your reach and lets a slow smile spread across his face. “Am I not allowed to appreciate the things I find beautiful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This man is going to be the death of you. You feel your face heat and he chuckles as he relents and rolls back towards you, close enough that he can wrap an arm around your waist and draw you in close. Your face flushes further as his lips brush against your ear. “I find you very beautiful, my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wiggling a little, you manage to free one arm from his embrace, bringing your hand up to cup the side of his face and draw him into a kiss. He follows you easily, his lips soft and warm against your own. His hand on your waist slides down a little to your hip and you can feel his fingertips pressing lightly into the swell of your ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford kisses like he does many other things in life: thoroughly and with a singular focus. You have the feeling he’s calculated just the right amount of pressure to apply, the exact flick of the tongue that will make your mouth open like a spring bud under his own… you moan as he does just that, tongue running along the seam of your lips and urging you to open up. His hands are ghosting up and down your sides now, fingers brushing just shy of tantalizing places but every time you make a noise of encouragement his touch shifts elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, it’s like that then. Two can play at this game. You try to suppress a smirk but he probably still feels it through your very thorough kiss. Using your hands, still firmly planted on the sides of his face, you push him up off of you. “Gotta breathe sometime, dear.” Not exactly a lie, but you’re forming a plan. A plan that plays into the baser parts of Stanford Pines’ brain – the parts less dealing with complicated math and theories and more with… animal instinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You enact this plan as soon as Ford sits back on his heels. Well, you enact it after you take a few long seconds to look up at your love: flushed, hair tousled, and openly palming himself through his slacks. You almost want to reach up and pull him back down, but… you want to rile him up and that thought drives you to action.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As quickly as you can, you pull your legs out from under Ford and spring upward. You stumble and almost fall over since you’re a little lightheaded from making out like teenagers but you retain just enough balance to back away with a grin on your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man looks confused and a little hurt, but then his eyes flick to your face and his gaze sharpens. He blinks slowly and makes a show of standing up, brushing non-existent dirt off his knees. “And just what do you think you are doing, my dear?” His voice is low and just rough enough to make a shiver run up your spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t stop though. “If you want me, you’re gonna have to catch me.” With a wink, you spin on your heel and dash off towards the edge of the clearing. You let out a delighted peel of laughter as you hear Ford growl incoherently at your retreating back. In all likelihood he’s cussing you out in one of the languages he learned on his travels and the thought thrills you just as much as the rush of pretending to flee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t get far, barely even inside the treeline. All the warning you have before strong arms wrap around your waist and lift you off the ground is a heavy footstep right behind you and a low growl in your ear. You let out a shriek that is mostly laughter and give only the barest token of a struggle as Ford lifts you up and spins you around to face him like you weigh nothing. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist. He has a glint in his eyes that only ever spells trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t get very far, my love,” he says in a tone that would be conversational except that there’s a dangerous edge to the sound. Your voice catches in your throat and your heart hammers in your chest as Ford carries you a few steps to lean you against a tree, lips sealing over yours in a searing kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment, he breaks away, flushed and panting. “Now that I’ve caught you, what should I do with you? Hmm?” He noses under your jaw and presses more kisses down your neck before he sets his teeth against your collarbone. You suck in a ragged breath as he gently bites down and then lose that breath in a startled gasp as you realize he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>growling against your skin</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he nips his way along the bone. You would bet actual money that there are words somewhere in the incoherent, alien sounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your back arches against the rough bark of the tree as Ford traces back along his bite-marks with the tip of his tongue. “Have… have you decided what you’re doing with me?” you manage to gasp out, fingers tightening on Ford’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I think I have,” Ford murmurs in your ear. “Hold on tight, my dear.” You’re about to ask him what the hell that’s supposed to mean when suddenly the arms that have been supporting your legs lift you high into the air and swing your knees over your partner’s shoulders. Your fingers scrabble for purchase against his head and end up threaded through the soft, thick hair on the back. He hums approval and turns his head just a little to press a kiss against the soft flesh of your thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only then do you realize how close he is, how his fingers have pushed up the hem of your sundress and you can feel his breath, warm against the cotton and lace of your panties. You wiggle a bit and feel the scrape of bark against your back. The faint worry that the tree may leave marks evaporates though as Ford uses one hand to roughly shove your panties to the side and presses his face between your legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all you can do to just hang on as he laves his tongue in broad strokes over your folds and presses heavy against your clit. Your breath hitches as you realize he’s growling again, the noise deep in his throat and not reliant on his mouth to carry. You spare one singular braincell to thank whatever multi-dimensional creature taught him that little trick. Then even that thought is carried away in a wave of pleasure as Ford wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your head falls back against the trunk of the tree and you don’t dare let go of your death-grip on Ford’s hair so you bite your lip to quell the howl that wants to rip it’s way out of your throat. Ford releases your aching clit with an obscene pop and pulls his head out from under your skirt. You let out a quivering moan as you take in the sight of your slick coating his lips and lower face. He smirks and makes a show of licking his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no need to be quiet, my dear. I gave Mothman some earplugs.” He pauses and then his smirk widens. “And I’m sure Stanley will enjoy hearing you just as much as I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mention of your other partner pulls another moan out from between your lips. You aren’t sure if you can be heard all the way back at the shack… but you’re suddenly very glad that everyone else that’s usually hanging around has gone out of town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t have time to think about anything else because Ford dives back in, tongue pushing through your folds to thrust inside you, providing much-needed friction as it passes your swollen clit. A stream of hissing swears fall from your lips as Ford devours you, still growling deep in his throat as he sucks and licks between your quivering legs. You hear the creak of overworked seams as he pushes your panties farther to the side, working one thick finger in beside his tongue. In and out, in and out - it doesn’t take long at all for your thrumming body to loosen enough for him to slide a second finger in as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Head lolling back against the tree bark, you make no effort now to silence your wailing moans. Between Ford’s talented mouth and fingers you feel like your whole body is vibrating, back arching against the rough bark of the tree as the first shaking waves of your orgasm spread out from your belly and into your quivering limbs. Your partner slowly finger-fucks you through it, lips wrapped around your clit and tongue delving deep until you sacrifice some of your precious stability to shove his head away with a breathless laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans easily back, face shining slick and eyes hooded, arousal-dark. He pulls his fingers out slowly and you feel every minute movement against your sensitive folds. (When had he gotten a third finger in there? No wonder you’d cum so quickly.) Despite how your legs are still shaking, you feel secure and safe, perched on Ford’s broad shoulders with your back supported by a tree and Ford’s hands sliding over your hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You... you gonna put me down anytime soon?” you pant after a long moment spent catching your breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford’s answering chuckle vibrates against your oversensitive skin. It is not reassuring. “Oh, I’ll set you down in a moment, love. But don’t think I’m done with you yet.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, teeth scraping just shy of a true bite. “Now that I’ve had a chance to taste you I think I have a little more vigorous activity in mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out a startled squeak as Ford deftly swings you around so you’re slung over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carries you back toward the picnic blanket like you weigh nothing. Even oversensitive, the space between your legs throbs and you feel the thrill of renewed arousal race up your spine. He has no right to be that strong, and yet…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You think he’s going to settle you down on the blanket but instead he makes for the fallen log that lays beside it. Still pliant from your last orgasm you can’t (and don’t really want to anyway) put up much of a fight as he unceremoniously drapes you over the wood with your ass in the air. He makes another low growling noise in the back of his throat and it almost sounds pleased. Every nerve alights with the sensation that you’ve turned your back on a predatory animal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a rustling from behind you, but when you turn to look, one large hand gently but firmly turns your head back towards the meadow. It’s lush and green and beautiful and you’re glad you enjoyed it earlier because you are not going to be able to concentrate with the warm bulk of Ford hovering behind you. The unmistakable click of a lube bottle followed by the rasp of skin against skin as Ford prepares himself makes your breath hitch in rising excitement. You feel him move closer, one warm hand landing on your hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind if I…” You can feel his hand shaking and you nod with a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead, I… oh!” Whatever you were about to say is cut off as Ford roughly shoves your skirt up around your middle and hooks his broad fingers through the sides of your panties. There’s a slight pressure, then a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>riiiiip </span>
  </em>
  <span>and then a cool breeze across your sensitive, swollen lips. Welp, those panties are sure done for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford rumbles out another growl under his breath and surges forward, fingers sliding between your folds once again. They’re cool and slick with lube and you gasp out as your oversensitive clit throbs with renewed interest. He makes a few perfunctory thrusts, making sure you’re still open and ready, before withdrawing again and using his knees to nudge your legs apart so you’re spread open for him. You feel entirely exposed draped over a log in the middle of a deep green meadow with your entire bare ass and pussy on display.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another rustle is all the warning you have before you feel the thick, blunt tip of Ford’s cock pressing against you. He slides in hard and fast, his earlier preparation easing the way like a knife through butter. You suck in a ragged breath at how </span>
  <em>
    <span>full </span>
  </em>
  <span>you feel, but don’t have time to enjoy it as he pulls almost all the way back out. You whine at the loss of sensation and he chuckles darkly as he bends over and nips at the shell of your ear. He growls something you can’t even begin to understand, hot breath on your neck as he slams back into you, fingers suddenly gripping tight enough on your hips that you know he’s going to leave a mark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, sex with Ford is somewhat gentle. He loves to explore your body and catalog each new sensation, taking his time to slowly bring you to completion before he seeks his own. But sometimes… sometimes he goes a little feral. This seems to be one of those times. He’s dragged you out to the woods like some sort of sexual cryptid and you’re content to let him have his way with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bent low over your back, still growling some indecipherable language in your ear, Ford sets a bruising pace. You feel the molten heat of arousal pooling in your belly again as the man shoves you harder against the fallen log with every thrust. The slap of skin against skin is loud in the little clearing, drowning out the sound of breeze and brook until it’s all you can do is focus on your own ragged moans as Ford plows into you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And really, plow is the only way to describe it. He has a vice-grip on your hips and he’s keeping your legs spread with just the pressure from his knees. With every hard rock forward you are being driven further over the log and into the dirt on the other side. Exhaling hard you brace your forehead against your crossed arms, moaning long and loud as a particularly hard thrust hits just the right spot. Every nerve feels like its on fire as Ford chuckles and angles a little better to brush past the bundle of nerves inside you again and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth is right next to your ear as he fucks into you, incomprehensible growling spilling from his throat and lips, growing deeper and more gravely with every passing second. You’re sure now that he’s speaking a language he learned in the multiverse, defaulting to something you don’t understand to more fully express how you make him feel. The idea that the broad scope of earth languages isn’t enough for Ford is overwhelming and you find yourself rocking back against him with guttural moans of your own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haah, fuck,” he groans out as you clench tight around him. They’re the first words you’ve been able to understand from him in several minutes, but you get the impression the rest were along similar lines. He pauses and one of his hands slides up from your hips to tangle in your hair, gently pulling back until your head follows. “No hiding now, my dear. Let me hear you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You whimper as you feel your orgasm building once again, your overstimulated clit no longer needing direct contact to throb with even a small motion, much less the powerful thrusts Ford is still pounding into you. Your whole body tingles and your whimper becomes a gasping sob into the open air of the meadow. A shiver makes its way up your spine and your back arches as the first wave of pleasure hits. You rock back against Ford and he gasps out something that’s probably a swear but it’s definitely not English. His grip on your hair loosens and his hand falls back to your hips, gripping you hard as he keeps up his steady, if punishing, pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another wave of pinprick pleasure rolls over you, from your curling toes to the top of your head, and you feel yourself clenching around Ford’s girth. “That’s it, love,” he breathes. “Ride it out. Show me how much you enjoy this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice, deep and rough with arousal, sends you over the edge with a stuttering cry. You’re shaking on his cock as you cum, squeezing around him until he’s gasping as well, sure and steady thrusts stuttering. He draws back and slams into you just a few more times, then freezes arched over your back as he cums with a strangled sob. You can feel him pulsing inside you as your own spasms subside, his hot release spattering against your walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a long, shaky exhale, Ford peels his stiff fingers from your hips and wraps his arms around your upper body instead, pulling you up into a rough embrace as he twitches slowly to soft inside of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your neck just below your ear. “You were so good for me, my dear. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You respond with an exhausted hum and tilt your head to the side so he can keep kissing your neck. He chuckles and obliges with a few more soft pecks, then makes a grunt of discomfort and lays you gently back over the log as he withdraws. “Unfortunately, my knees cannot support both of us for much longer,” he says with a gentle laugh as he tucks himself back into his pants. When he’s done he reaches out and tugs your rumpled skirt over your bare ass. “I’m afraid your panties are a total loss, I might have gotten a bit… carried away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t help the amused snort that you make at the memory of the fabric shredding like tissue paper under the force of Ford’s fingers. “Well… you certainly carried me away.” In more ways than one, if you’re honest. The world is taking a bit longer to come into focus and the air still feels a bit like you’re swimming in a haze of pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford chuckles and hauls himself upright before reaching down and offering you a hand up. “Always glad to help, my love.” He pulls you to your feet and then cups your face to press another soft kiss to your lips. When he withdraws he doesn’t go far, merely presses your foreheads together. “I need to clean up our picnic, will you be alright to make it home on your own? Judging by the sounds you were making, you likely have someone very riled up and waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That statement gives you pause and then you huff out a laugh of your own. “You bastards planned this, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dating brothers hadn’t seemed like a bad idea at first, but you had quickly learned that they could and would team up against you. Now that you look at the situation, though still sex-drunk and orgasm-dazed, you can see the organization of a practiced con in the well-organized picnic basket and proximity to the shack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We might have had some thoughts to make your day more interesting.” Ford pulls away with a fond smile, brushing his knuckles softly along your cheek before spinning you around towards the path and reaching down to swat lightly at your ass. “Now go along, I’ll see you in a little while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You make your stumbling way back to the shack, legs wobbling a little like a newborn fawn. Fortunately the path back is mostly flat, because you are suddenly too distracted by the slow and sticky slide of Ford’s cum down the inside of your thigh to concentrate on something as unimportant as your footing. You’re also suddenly acutely aware that earlier activities against tree-bark have left scraped patches on your upper back that you’re likely going to feel as soon as the endorphins wear off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You aren’t really looking forward to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you know it, the peaked roof of the shack looms over you, familiar gabled windows open and inviting like old friends. There’s a flicker of movement at the kitchen curtains and you know with certainty that it’s Stan. Who else could it be, after all, with everyone else gone out of town for the weekend? (Or what counts for the Shack’s weekend at any rate. Its the two slowest days depending on the season, and honestly your brains are a bit too scrambled to remember if today is Monday or Tuesday.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you round the corner to the porch, Stan is leaning in the door waiting for you with a knowing smirk on his face. He makes a show of looking slowly down your body and licking his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you had some fun out in…” he waves his hands towards the trees. “...nature.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh,” you say, nice and eloquent. You feel the urge to be a little sassy. “Sure did, how could you tell?” Nailed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You go to push past Stan into the house but he reaches out and easily snags you around the waist with one beefy arm. “Well for one, doll… you have leaves in your hair.” He uses his free hand to pull out the offending foliage and dangle it in your face. His voice drops into a growl and he leans close to your ear. “And for another thing… I could hear you screaming bloody murder all the way in the back storeroom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your face instantly heats and you’re probably the color of a ripe cherry tomato. Stan chuckles and flicks the leaf away so his hand is free to cup your face and draw you into a fierce kiss more tongue and teeth than lips. You thought you were spent but you can feel the tingle of renewed arousal between your thighs and you’re not entirely sure how long you’re gonna last this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re already whimpering as Stan noses along your jaw, leaving nipping kisses in his wake. “You ready for round two, babydoll?” he growls against your skin, the scrape of his stubble tingling against oversensitive nerves. “I bet Sixer worked you nice and open for me. I bet I’ll slide right on in, don’t have to do any of the work myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A groan forces its way from between your lips as you nod and Stan hums delightedly into your neck. “Hang on tight.” You’re about to ask what for when you find yourself swept up into his arms and then nearly immediately deposited on the nasty front porch couch. There’s an ominous creak but you’re less worried about structure than you are the likely mold in the cushions. You’re about to object strongly to this development, but then your senses catch up to your surroundings and you realize that Stan had </span>
  <em>
    <span>planned for this </span>
  </em>
  <span>and put down a clean sheet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a complete monster,” he says with a laugh as he notices your near-distress. “Wanted to give the old girl a proper send-off before we chuck her next week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s fair. This couch has seen a lot. What’s a little more bodily fluid? You’re just glad the abrasions on your back don’t have to touch the original fabric.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wiggle into a more comfortable divot in the ancient cushions as Stan shoves down his boxers (leaving them hanging around one ankle like the lazy old man he is) and crawls up beside you. His erection is already standing proudly on display, and you suspect that he’d been listening to your wrecked cries earlier while preparing himself. He gently settles his hands on your knees, pulling your legs apart and sliding his hands down your thighs to push your skirt up around your midriff. At the sight of you he pauses to suck in a breath and let it out slow through his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ol’ Cryptid-Fucker really did a number on ya, doll,” he says, running one broad thumb over the jutting bone of your hip. Raising one eyebrow you struggle upright on your elbows to look down your own body and… you aren’t surprised by the five perfect crescents on each hip where Ford’s fingernails had dug into your flesh. You’d be willing to bet there’s a matching one from his thumb along the swell of each ass-cheek. Stan’s voice is a little more rough when he speaks again. “Kinda makes me want to leave some marks of my own. Can’t let everyone get ideas about you playing favorites.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let your head fall back with a breathless laugh. “Everyone already knows I love you both equally. I… oooh!” Anything else you were about to say gets swallowed up in a moan as Stan matter-of-factly licks two of his fingers and slides them between your legs. He leans forward and starts pressing hard kisses to your neck and collarbone as he fingers you hard, not even trying not to leave a trail of hickeys in his wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, babe, you’re already so wet and loose. I’m gonna slide into you no problem at all, huh? Like a duck through wa…” he stops abruptly as you shove a hand over his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You finish that sentence under pain of mockery, old man,” you say, eyes glinting with thinly veiled amusement. His own eyes glint right back and you withdraw your hand with a yelp. “Did you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>lick me?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I ain’t licking other parts of you today.” He pulls his fingers out of your aching folds and absently wipes them off on the sheet as he grins down at you. “Gotta taste ya somehow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You groan and buck your hips up towards him encouragingly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “I will admit you have a point. Now are you gonna fuck me or talk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No rule saying I can’t do both.” Stan’s grin grows sharp and he leans in closer, voice dropping even lower than normal. “We both know how much you love to hear me talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>love to hear you talk,” you retort, reaching up to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. What he says is true though, it’s no lie that his gravelly voice gets your motor running. He chuckles and shuffles a little farther forward, pressing another bruising kiss against your lips before leaning back and taking one of your ankles in each broad hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face settles into something serious for a moment. “You’ve already taken a lot today, you let me know if we need to stop, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You roll your eyes as you nod and buck up against him to tell him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get on with it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The serious expression fades into hunger and he leans in, spreading your legs further apart with firm pressure against your ankles. He lets go with one hand for a moment, bracing the inside of your knee against his hip as he tugs at his cock a couple times before lining up and slowly pressing forward. A long, low whine forces its way out from between your lips as he brushes his thumb over your oversensitive clit and slides his hand up your leg back towards your ankle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stan bites his lip and exhales slowly as he slides into you, just as easily as he’d thought he might. He hadn’t even needed to add the lube you know is tucked down the back of the couch for emergencies. Between the lube and cum and your own slick from earlier… well, you can feel it dripping down to puddle on the sheet below you. It feels nasty and </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely dirty </span>
  </em>
  <span>and suddenly you’re so turned on that the world is blurring around you as you choke out a shuddering sob that might be Stan’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunts out a string of swear words in response, slamming forward the rest of the way before drawing almost all the way out and slamming in again. You can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> how wet you are as he pounds you into the couch, out on the porch where anyone could see… and once again you find yourself glad that everyone else is out of town. The groaning and wet slapping is </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely obvious</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the still afternoon air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Ford’s pace in the forest had been relentless, Stan’s is absolutely just as punishing, punching forward into your cunt like a machine. You’re rocking backward with every thrust and the couch is creaking loudly in protest, but you don’t care. All you care about is the satisfyingly full slide of Stan’s cock into your sensitive center. Every time he bottoms out you feel like you might split open and the thought thrills you like little else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, toots,” pants Stan as he bends your knees halfway to your chest and pistons forward. “I knew you’d feel good, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck...</span>
  </em>
  <span> I ain’t gonna last long.” You can feel him molten hot inside you, the head of his thick cock dragging at your walls in an explicit echo of his twin less than half an hour ago. It’s rare that you get fucked by both brothers in the same day and the way your body is already twitching towards a third orgasm is a good example of why you don’t usually go for this. The way your legs are shaking… you’re probably going to be pretty useless for the next few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stan’s growling out a mix of expletives and praise – some in Spanish, some in English, and all completely filthy – and slamming into you with the force of a man half his age when the couch underneath you gives up the ghost. You’re shuddering around his cock on the edge of yet another mind-shattering orgasm and suddenly there’s a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>CRACK </span>
  </em>
  <span>followed by a sudden jarring drop a little closer to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHOA, SHIT,” yells Stan, narrowly avoiding headbutting you hard in the nose. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>… did we break the couch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably, but he’s frozen inside you and you need him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>move</span>
  </em>
  <span>, broken couch be damned. Summoning the last of your strength you reach up and pull him down into a bruising kiss, bucking your hips against him. “Don’t know, don’t care. Don’t you dare stop fucking me right now, Stan. I’m so fucking close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stan groans at your order, shifting a little to stay steady on the now-rickety cushions. He leans into you with as much of his weight as you can take and pounds against you so hard you can feel the remains of the couch shaking apart around you. One hand slips off your ankle and presses hard against your clit, not so much rubbing as just adding needed pressure to finally tip you over the edge once more. Your fingers dig into Stan’s hair and your back arches as you see stars and scream out his name into the summer afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like Ford earlier, Stan follows close on the heels of your own orgasm, the clench of your cunt around his cock pulling a wrecked, shuddering groan from his lips. “Babe I’m…” is all the warning you get before he’s frozen over you with a twisted grimace of pleasure painted across his face, dick throbbing against your walls as he adds to the mess inside you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slide your hands out of his hair and draw him down into a gentle embrace. He sighs and buries his face in the crook of your neck for a moment and together you wait for your breathing to even out from harsh panting. The remains of the couch creak ominously under your combined weight, but for now it holds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s not in one piece anymore.” Ford’s voice breaks the silence and both of your heads swivel sharply to see him leaning against the porch rail with a smug grin on his face. “Good thing we’re getting rid of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stan swears and scrambles to yank his boxers back up, inadvertently making you whimper as he pulls out. You feel suddenly exposed in the open air, legs thrown akimbo across the collapsed couch and cum leaking out into a messy puddle underneath you. Stan, boxers pulled up to protect his nearly nonexistent modesty, reaches down and offers you a hand up. You’re shaking and your knees wobble as you lean heavily on him, still flushed and tingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford clears his throat and Stan frowns in his direction, the twins having some kind of silent conversation. You have little warning a few moments later when Stan grunts something that sounds like an affirmative and sweeps you up into his arms. He holds you like you weigh nothing, even as exhausted as you both are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let's get you inside and cleaned up, babe,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Ford’ll pick up our mess for us, isn’t that nice of him?” He shoots a wicked grin in his brother’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a roll of his eyes, Ford steps forward and gently strokes a knuckle down your cheek. “We agreed to this days ago, it's not like this is a new development, Stanley. Now go get our love cleaned up, she’s worked hard today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stan carries you through the house (pausing only to cram your now rather grubby dress in the laundry) and gently deposits you in a bath that is already drawn and somehow miraculously still warm. Despite still wearing his boxers, he climbs in behind you and carefully sets about helping you bathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weakly insist that you’re a grown adult and you can do this yourself, but Stan tuts and pours a cup of warm water across your back. You withdraw your insistence with a pained hiss as all the micro-abrasions from the tree-bark make their stinging presence known. Stan’s touch is soothing though, after a few moments the pain subsides with the gentle brush of his hands and the familiar smell of your own body wash. You close your eyes with a sigh and let him take care of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're so good for us, you know that, right?” He says as he rinses the last of the shampoo out of your hair. “We really don't deserve you, yet here you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're quiet for a long moment, words still hard to find after three earth-shattering orgasms. “Maybe... maybe its you who're good for me...” you slur after some careful thought. “Taking such good care of me and all. Chicken salad sandwich </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>you wash my hair. Plus all of Ford's prep work in getting me this... this blissed out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh, maybe so.” Stan clambers out of the tub, ignoring the pooling water under his feet as he helps you out and hands you a towel. “I'm gonna go put on some clean duds, but I laid out your favorite pajamas on the big bed... thought we could all use a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just the mention of a nap makes you yawn so hard your jaw cracks. After the day you've had... despite the pleasure you're ready for blissful unconsciousness. You wrap the towel around yourself and stumble down the hall to the bedroom, finding not only soft flannel pajama pants and an old t-shirt you'd stolen from Ford, but the scientist himself. He's propped up against the cushions, freshly showered, and you find yourself quickly changing and crawling in beside him to curl into his welcoming body heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles and pulls you close with one arm. The two of you are quiet for a while, the distant sound of Stan banging around a different part of the shack the only noise to break the silence. After a while you decide to ask the one burning question on your mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long were you standing there, anyway?” you mumble sleepily, rolling over to fling one heavy leg over Ford's thigh and curling closer against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles and gently threads his hand through your hair, pads of his fingers rubbing against your scalp. “Long enough to catch you two in the act of nearly concussing yourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'll have you know that is entirely the couch's fault, Poindexter,” says Stan as he bustles into the room, clad in soft sleep pants of his own. “Budge over, doll, make room on the bed for one tired old man, will ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You obligingly slide a scant inch closer to Ford as Stan crawls into bed behind you, curling his warm body around your back. Between the warmth of two bodies bracketing your own and the golden sunbeams creeping their mesmerizing way down the wall you find yourself yawning again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can debate the merits of a sturdier couch later,” says Ford, amusement coloring his tone. He slides further down the pillows and closes his eyes with a contented hum. “For now I am feeling like taking a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only response he gets is a gentle snore.</span>
</p><p><br/>
THE END</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this and wish to yell about grunks, my tumblr link can be found on my profile page! I also really love comments if you got em XD</p></blockquote></div></div>
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